You wanted to hold all of the suffering of the world
In the palm of your hand
And when you saw it would not fit,
You quietly slid some into your pockets
And beneath your pillow
And between the pages of your notebook,
Struggling to comprehend why every tear was shed.
You tried to save the drowning man,
To keep him from slipping beneath the turbulence of the sea
For the last time.
But you slipped out of happiness
The way one slips out of her daily routine.
Losing sight of the sunlight shining on the sea
And the children's laughter echoing from the shore,
The world faded to black and white.
And as the water filled your lungs,
You realized that all of that suffering was weighing you down,
And the drowning man was much farther out than you thought.
So silently you sunk, deeper and deeper,
Watching the fractured pieces of your black and white world,
Disappearing above you.

I am tired, I am worn
For this is the calm after the storm
Heart beat ceases to race
Everything seems to fall into place
Take comfort in cycles and patterns,
Separate the insignificant from what matters
History repeats itself they say,
The universe works in funny ways
So push thoughts of growing older,
Of growing colder, of forgetting to be bolder
To the back of my mind
Shelved away somewhere difficult to find
And think instead of stories that turn out okay
Think of the sound of waves and rainy days
For I am slowly breathing
Almost sleeping
Nearly dreaming
Simply being.

I think I should invent
a GPS for life -
Little dots on a screen
Showing where I've been,
With bold yellow lines
Defining safe paths
Through its strife.
Technology that'll calculate,
Then efficiently navigate
Roads blocked or doors locked.
Better to enjoy times
Spent flying along
Distances lying between
Beginning and end.

I've sworn off dreams,
Willing, instead, gray nights,
A sleep of the dead
To match the day.
That loss of control
Over thoughts that
Were once so carefully
Jailed and forgotten
Is hard to regain
As sun arises,
Consciousness reigning again.
Memories of faces, their places,
Feelings best left suppressed,
Otherwise find freedom -
Unchained to dance in
Convolutions of mind
That bend time,
Like letters folded
Bringing beginning to end,
Blurring new words,
Ink not yet dry -
As awake, at work,
In midst of a chore,
Suddenly expecting
Young lovers will be sitting,
On that stoop over there;
Night's scenes will still dance,
Steal away the days,
And life become one long
Reverie.